


Warmth

by Patsy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Spooning, post 2x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:41:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patsy/pseuds/Patsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's suddenly aware of the fact that Derek I'm-going-to-tear-your-throat-out-with-my-teeth Hale is spooning him in bed. Cuddling, even. Post 2x10, Pre 2x11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is actually my first piece of fanfiction on AO3 as well as my first Teen Wolf piece. I've been trying to get back into writing and of course Teen Wolf ended up being the perfect outlet. I really just wanted some fluff because I know I'm not the only one that's not going to be mentally, or emotionally prepared for the Season Finale this upcoming Monday. Hopefully there aren't any mistakes, but considering I originally wrote this at 4 AM, there might be..  
> welp.
> 
> I'm still working on other oneshots that I'll probably end up posting.. eventually. I'm just really terrified of the Season Finale, ahahah.

The first thing Stiles notices when he starts to wake is the excess warmth. It isn't the _snug-under-the-covers_ warmth, either. It's something closer, more personal. It's meant to be meaningful. 

It's simple body heat. But it's more than a little bit excessive. 

Stiles had always wondered why Derek had been able to run around everywhere with just his shirt and jeans on. Well, he sort of knew that it had everything to do with the fact that he was a  _werewolf._ He was obviously some kind of walking furnace and hey, Stiles wasn't about to complain.

He can feel the bare, muscular chest falling and rising behind him with every inhale and exhale.

_Derek_ , Stiles thinks. He's suddenly aware of the fact that Derek  _I'm-going-to-tear-your-throat-out-with-my-teeth_ Hale is spooning him in bed.  _Cuddling_ , even. 

Stiles should be possibly freaking out, but he's not. He's far from freaking out. He's perfectly calm. There's a certain level of trust between them now. They had saved each others lives multiple times now and Derek just really needed to actually trust someone.

Especially with everything that had been going with the pack and the kanima. Stiles was still pretty shaken by the events that took place at the small police station. He thinks that Derek was probably a little shaken too, not expecting to have to expose his long-term secret of being a werewolf. Granted, only Melissa McCall—Scott's mother—knew at the moment, but Stiles father would have to find out eventually with the way things were going. 

At the moment, his dad was still at the station trying to sort everything out after being released from the hospital with a minor concussion while Stiles himself had been checked out and driven home after giving a short summary of what had exactly gone down.

He was glad that the paralysis caused by the kanima's venom had worn off by the time reinforcements had been on the scene, because he would not have had the energy to even begin to explain.

By the time he had gotten up the stairs, Derek was already at his window looking like someone had tried to kick his puppy and Stiles figures that in a way, someone had—if said puppy was Derek. Because in that case, numerous people had tried to kick him. Matt, the kanima, and the Argent's. It was all just  _peachy_ , really. 

Stiles liked to think that he didn't say much to Derek being in his room and personal space was due to the craziness of everything that had transpired hours ago. Derek had followed Stiles to bed and that was all that there was to it.

It all sunk down to one thing. They both needed the comfort; the closeness.

There were small puffs of air on the back of his neck and for a moment he vaguely wonders if he could be left with stubble burn in the morning, if the way Derek is practically rubbing his face into his sensitive neck is any indication.

He would probably have to hide that from his father, with his red hoodie or  _something_ . Even if his father started working longer again, he knows he would run into him at some point—knowing his luck.

There wouldn't be any reason to hide it from Scott or the pack since they would just smell Derek's scent on him miles before he even sees them. He can imagine all of the ridiculous ' _Little Red Riding'_ hoodie jokes they would make at his expense, regardless of whether he did more than cuddle with their Alpha or not, if he wears that red hoodie.

He snorts. He would have to somehow avoid all of that—maybe by finally investing in a differently colored hoodie or sweatshirt. He could probably borrow Derek's leather jacket, but that would seriously put him in a weird situation with his dad, and everyone else that knows Derek. Nevermind. That wasn't going to happen. No way.

“Shut up, Stiles.” The Sourwolf mumbles against his _still_ sensitive neck. The last thing he wants to do is start laughing or squirming because of the way Derek is breathing into his neck.

“But I didn't even _say_ anything.” He protests.

“You didn't have to. I could hear your mind going on a tangent.” Derek quietly scoffs and then snuffles.

Stiles remained silent. He didn't reply or add anything. He should have expected Derek to say something along those lines since he had his freaky werewolf senses that could tell him what he was feeling just by being in the same room. He supposes such was the downside of having a werewolf companion. 

“Go back to Sleep, Stiles.” Derek presses his face—his chin, into his neck again and all of the things Stiles could have said, disappear.

Usually he would try to object or get the last word in, but for now... for now he really didn't feel the need to. He wanted to keep this warming feeling unspoken.

He inched slowly closer toward the werewolf furnace that was Derek Hale even though they he was already pressed up against his chest. He simply closed his eyes as Derek hummed his approval.

Stiles was perfectly content with being spooned by Derek. There was a certain warmth there that was so much more than just Derek's excessive body heat. They were so close that Stiles could actually feel both of their heartbeats.

The sound of their heartbeats started to lull Stiles to sleep. Stiles wanted to savor the warmth and presence of Beacon Hills Alpha because he felt safe. He would enjoy that feeling while he still could because he knows that something else, something much worse is coming and he, for whatever reason, is sure that he'll be stuck in the center of it all.

Before totally succumbing to the fake sense of peace sleep would offer, Stiles couldn't help but imagine different scenarios in which his gun-wielding, Sheriff of a father discovers his son sleeping in his bed with a once suspected murderer.

He concludes that maybe he would just have to take out the comforter from his closet and use that for warmth again, if that actually happened. He doubts it would be as efficient as Derek though. 


End file.
